


...And Comfort to the Enemy

by MirrorEmpire



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: F/M, Klingon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-09
Updated: 2013-08-09
Packaged: 2017-12-22 22:39:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/918848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirrorEmpire/pseuds/MirrorEmpire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Klingon captain and a Star Fleet officer:  Forbidden fruit is always sweetest...</p><p>Or is it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	...And Comfort to the Enemy

**Author's Note:**

> Published in Masiform-D 10, May 1980

 

 

            By the time the Treaty Negotiation and Disarmament Conference had dragged into its third week, Kate had become both bored to tears and disillusioned with the whole conference.  It was all right for the top Klingon and Federation diplomats, who had the money to enjoy themselves when not ostensibly conducting delicate negotiations.

            But for a junior lieutenant…it was bad enough being forced to use up accumulated leave time.  Kate knew why, too.  What did Star Fleet care if she couldn't afford to do anything on this expensive resort planet except catch up on her reading?  It was saving _them_ time and money.

            Kate settled, only slightly uncomfortably, on the broad branch of a large tree, frowned, and then turned back to her book.  She was spending a cheerfully lachrymose afternoon rereading LITTLE WOMEN as a specific against her total irritation.  _Maybe some of the saccharin acceptance of tribulation will wear off on me._

            By the time she was damp-eyed over Beth's tragic demise, it was, as a glance at the sun told her, high time she headed back to the town.  Kate began to work her way down the tree, quickly discovering that it is a great deal easier to climb up a tree than down.  Malevolent elves had cleverly replaced the original well-placed, firmly supportive branches with fragile substitutes from a completely different tree.

            She lowered her full weight onto a branch.  It bent sharply.  Kate dropped her book, grabbed at a limb that retaliated by slashing her across her face, and slithered through far too many bushy, pointy bits of wood and leaves to the ground.

            She landed on her feet.  There was a popping feeling in her right ankle just before she fell, with a heavy thud, to a sitting position.  She knew instantly that she'd sprained the damned ankle.

            "Oh, shit!"  She touched her rapidly-swelling ankle gingerly, and blinked back tears.  Now she'd have to try to hobble all the way back to her hotel.

            "You may not have noticed," said a helpful voice, "but you've dropped your book."

            Kate's head jerked up, and she twisted around.  She found herself facing a uniformed Klingon, his blaster in his hand.  As she stiffened, with a quick intake of breath, he holstered the gun, bent to pick up the book and shake the leaves out of it, and held it out to her.

            Kate eyed him warily, and carefully stood up.  Her hair felt full of twigs, her face had a stinging welt from the vicious branch, blood from a skinned knee was oozing down her leg, and she had broken off several fingernails down to the quick.  She also felt like a damned fool.

            The Klingon gravely offered her the book.  Kate, irrationally annoyed by his temerity in sneaking up while she was falling out of trees, in addition to scaring the hell out of her, _and_ having the bad taste to be impeccably neat and polite as well, practically snatched the book from him.

            "Thank you!" she snapped.

            "Not at all."  His voice was carefully courteous.  He regarded her for a moment with what Kate suspected was suppressed amusement.  "I suppose that you managed to injure yourself?"

            Kate decided that she would be damned if she'd let this Klingon think she was crying because she was hurt.  "Beth died.  _Everybody always_ cries when Beth dies."  She noted with satisfaction that the Klingon's incredibly irritating expression of suave amusement was now overlaid by bafflement.

            "I can't imagine why you should think I was hurt."  She turned, intending to walk off, if possible without limping.  Her ankle nearly gave way.

            "My apologies," the Klingon said.  "When you fell, I assumed -- but you Earthers _do_ indulge in the most peculiar hobbies."

            "Just what I needed, a Klingon smartass," Kate muttered, painfully reseating herself on the ground.

            A malicious grin on his dark face, the Klingon also sat, and watched Kate viciously dissect a piece of moss.

            "Now is that any way to 'contribute to mutual understanding and galactic brotherhood'?" he said in wounded, reproving tones.

            Despite her annoyance, Kate was forced to clamp her lips tightly together to prevent a grin.  That was one of the more fatuous lines in this week's conference newsletter.  "How about contributing to galactic goodwill by sending a medtech out this way?" she suggested, after a short pause.

            He rose to his feet.  "I gave during the last war."

            Kate looked up at him.  “You’re going?”  The unspoken ‘I hope’ was almost audible.  She liked neither the impression that she was providing him with mild amusement, nor the nagging feeling that she really ought to recognize him.  Being towered over did nothing to eliminate her unease, so she attempted to stand again.

            As she began to push herself up, the Klingon grasped her hand, pulled her easily to her feet, and swung her up into his arms, unnerving her completely.

            “Put me down!”

            “Certainly – when we reach the medical office.”

            Kate began trying to struggle free.  The Klingon tightened his arms, pinning her against his chest.  “Don’t wriggle,” he said.  “Isn’t one fall enough for you?”

            Her temper now irretrievably lost, Kate made one more effort to free herself.  Failing, she lapsed into a rigid silence.

            To her considerable surprise, the Klingon actually was able to carry her all the way back to the infirmary.  And if it weren’t for her growing conviction that she’d made a fool of herself, coupled with an even firmer conviction that the Klingon was being helpful only to harass her, Kate would have considered the expression on the doctor’s face worth all the previous aggravation.  Unfortunately, Kate couldn’t fully appreciate it at the moment.

            The Klingon deposited her on an exam bed.  He took a rather lingering time to remove his hands.  Kate glared at him.  He gave her a mocking smile.

            “What – what happened?”  The doctor sounded dazed.

            “I walked into a door!” Kate said through gritted teeth.

            There was a slight choked sound from the Klingon.  Kate turned a venomous gaze on him.  He raised an inquiring forked eyebrow, a look of bland innocence on his bearded face.

            “And you,” said Kate, “are without a doubt the most annoying human being I’ve ever met.”

            “Permit me to point out that I am not a human being.”  He nodded to the doctor and left the room while Kate was still recovering from this remark.

            Kate was forced to admire the strategic withdrawal, which neatly and unfairly left him with the last word.  She had to concede that the man had a truly rotten sense of humor.

            “Well, of all the over-dramatic --” Kate began, staring at the door through which he had vanished.  “And he obviously has a perfectly fantastic opinion of himself, whoever he --” she broke off abruptly as the doctor poked at her swollen ankle.

            “Starship captains usually do.”  The doctor frowned.  “I hope you didn’t offend him.  The last thing we need now is more trouble with those people.”

            “Oh,” said Kate.  So that was it.  She conjured up a faint recollection of a listing in one of the early issues of that dull newsletter.  In the ‘Know Your Enemy’ section, as the junior officers irreverently referred to the delegation biographies.  Captain Ktalgar, of the Klingon Imperial Battlecruiser _Felcmir_.

            _Why do I have the horrible feeling that a Klingon starship captain would have more pull than a Federation junior lieutenant if he decides to continue his fun by complaining that I insulted him?_   This would teach her to go climbing trees at the age of twenty-six.

            “Now,” said the doctor, still probing sadistically at Kate’s ankle, “what happened to you, Miss?”

            “Lieutenant Mullaine,” Kate said.  “Ouch.”

            The doctor finally announced, looking self-satisfied, that Kate was to remain in the infirmary overnight, “for observation,” after which her ankle would require several days of complete rest.

            Early the following afternoon, Kate was sitting in bed in the infirmary.  Spread out over the covers were several booktapes, a pack of cards, a puzzle of a black hole, and the conference newsletter.

            She was staring longingly out of the window when a nurse poked his head into the room, announcing that she had a visitor.  Kate, who was still feeling stiff, sore, and scratched, leaned forward in careful interest.

            Almost immediately, she fell painfully back on the pillows in disbelief.  Captain Ktalgar strolled into the room.  He was carrying a massive bunch of flowers – Kate strongly suspected it of being an entire rosebush, roots and all – and a large box.

            The Klingon held out the box, which Kate, stunned, automatically accepted.  The box fell through her fingers and landed on her stomach, almost knocking her breath out.

            “What the hell is that?” she said, massaging her fingers.

            “Candy.  And flowers too, of course.”  He set the bush on the foot of the bed.

            “Don’t you feel you’re overdoing it a bit?”

            The Klingon grinned.  “Nonsense.  The proprietor of the confectionary concession assured me that Earthers will swallow anything.  Of course, I may not have the quote absolutely correct.  Alien languages are always difficult.”

            “Are they really?” said Kate, eyeing him with fascination.  Suddenly realizing that she was undoubtedly about to become insulting again, she resolutely ignored the numerous sharp-edged comments at her disposal for response.  "Uh, Captain -- thank you for your assistance yesterday."

            "That's not what you said at the time."  He pulled up a chair and sat down.  He regarded Kate, who had, among other souvenirs of her sylvan outing, a large bruise across her face.  "And what _did_ you finally tell the doctor?"

            Kate eyed Captain Ktalgar closely for a moment, then succumbed.  She favored the Klingon with her nastiest smile.  "I said you assaulted me, of course."

            "I'm glad you didn't disappoint her.  It was so patently what she really expected to hear."

            There was a brief silence as they looked at each other.  Kate began snickering.  Ktalgar kept his face comparatively neutral, but the corner of his mouth twitched up.

            "Well," said Kate, forcing herself, with an effort, to stop laughing, "it was nice of you to come, Captain.  I think."

            "I'm never nice.  I'm merely attempting to combat terminal boredom."

            "And long walks randomly shooting at things helps?"  
            Kate's smile faded somewhat as she realized that she was probably lucky the man hadn't shot both her and LITTLE WOMEN.  With a little less control…

            "That's right," he said as her expression changed.  "But I never shoot at random.  It's a dangerous habit."

            "How true."  Kate studied him.  Klingon or not, Ktalgar had a charmingly barbed style of conversation.  No longer tree-ruffled, Kate enjoyed it.  And if a hotshot starship captain chose to honor her with his company, who was she to object?  Kate tried, with a noticeable lack of success, to control the slow smile that lit up her face.  _Particularly since I haven't got anything to do either . . . ._

            "And you have no dangerous habits, I suppose?" Kate said, abandoning as a lost cause her attempt to keep a straight face.

            "None," Ktalgar said firmly.

            "How dull."

            The ensuing conversation was anything but dull.  Ktalgar stayed for another fifteen minutes or so of amusing verbal fencing.  After he'd gone, Kate shook her head in disbelief.  That man was not in the least like her idea of a Klingon.  He sure as hell knew how to break monotony.

            However, he didn't show up again while she was stuck in the infirmary.  The rest of her stay seemed even more boring in contrast.

            About a week later, Kate's name finally came up on the list of junior officers to be favored with the rare treat of attendance at one of the almost nightly cocktail parties that seemed to be the principal activity of the peace conference participants.

            _And I suppose if I really had any pretensions to true academic diligence,_ Kate thought, surveying the crowded, glittering room with a jaundiced eye, _I'd be taking notes.  I wonder if I could interest THE FEDERATION JOURNAL OF APPLIED SOCIOLOGY in a study of 'Interactional Patterns in Dull Diplomatic Circles'?_   She sidestepped to avoid a seemingly-enthralled group listening to one of the young Klingon athletes holding forth on some martial art form or other.

            _God,_ Kate thought, continuing her unabashed eavesdropping on random snippets of conversation.  _That sounds almost as dull as General Berrara's efforts to talk his secretary into --_

            "How's your ankle?"

            She turned to see Captain Ktalgar, in the full glory of dress uniform, standing beside her.  He held a glass in each hand.

            "Do you always insist on sneaking up behind people?" said Kate, staring at him in some admiration.

            "My primary aim in life," he said firmly.  "I'm a very cautious man.  Have a drink."

            Kate gratefully accepted the glass.  "Tell me, Captain, just how long do _you_ think this conference would have dragged on somewhere else?  If it had been held on a nice, barren border asteroid, say?"

            "Don't be cynical.  I'm sure the luxury of the accommodations has nothing to do with it.  Bored, are you?"

            Kate regarded him suspiciously.  "Yes.  But then, _I_ don't get to while away the evening insulting the brass-brained military morons running this thing."

            "I don't know what you mean," Ktalgar said blandly.

            Kate took a sip of her drink.  "It just so happens, Captain, that I overheard part of your conversation with Undersecretary Grovin.  So your 'humble command of our language is of the poorest', is it?"

            Ktalgar smiled.  "Idiomatic fluency in alien dialects is so difficult to acquire."

            "Right," Kate said.  There was a slightly awkward pause.  "Well, Captain," Kate said tentatively, "thank you for the drink . . . . "

            "As long as we're going to be insulting each other anyway, I suggest you call me Ktalgar."

            "Why?" said Kate without thinking.

            "It's my name."

            Kate took a deep, choking breath, trying not to wince.  And she'd walked right into that one, too.  She stared at the Klingon in not entirely simulated disbelief.

            Ktalgar shook his head.  "I wouldn't," he advised kindly.  "Too many witnesses."

            "It would almost be worth it," Kate said.  "Of all the _rotten_ jokes--!"

            Ktalgar acknowledged this tribute with a sardonic half-bow.  As he straightened, his eyes met Kate's.  They stared at each other, the brief pause gradually stretching out.

            Ktalgar raised one dark forked eyebrow and smiled at her over the rim of his glass.

            With a rising feeling of reckless exhilaration, Kate lifted her own glass, and let her mouth curve into an answering smile.

#

            When she woke the next morning, with her face pressed into the pillow and Ktalgar's arm resting heavily across her back, Kate's first thought was that the third drink had been a colossal mistake.  She exerted a considerable effort and rolled over.

            Her action caused Ktalgar to open his eyes.  "Good morning."  He sounded quite appallingly cheerful.

            "I swear to God, I'm going to cut it all off," Kate snarled, pulling strands of her dark hair out of her mouth and unwrapping them from her neck.  Having succeeded in removing most of the hair from its stranglehold on her neck, she turned her head to look at her companion.  "Oh.  Hello."

            Ktalgar, propped up on the pillows, regarded her with what she could only regard as a wolfish grin.  He was obviously in far better shape than she was.

            Kate looked at him rather bitterly.  "I suppose debauchery just takes practice, like anything else.  I feel half-dead.  It _is_ morning, isn't it?"

            "After all, what with one thing and another, we didn't get to sleep very early."

            "Don't be reasonable at this ungodly hour.  _I_ call 3:30 _very_ early."  Kate shut her eyes and rested her arm across her face.  "Those goddamn full-dress uniforms should be banned by law.  They completely warp the judgment."

            "Any complaints?"  Ktalgar's voice held an edge of irritation.

            "I shouldn't imagine you get many."

            "True."

            "Modest as all hell, aren't you?" Kate said, through a yawn.

            "I've always felt that one should have a proper appreciation of one's talents."

            Kate stretched, opened her eyes again, and flung herself into a more or less upright position.  She wrapped her arms around her knees as an aid to remaining sitting u.  "It's the gold braid and glitter.  Gets them every time, I suppose?"

            "In conjunction with my charming personality."

            "In _my_ case," said Kate with dignity, "the motivation was scientific curiosity.  Sociological research into alien, uh, customs."

            Ktalgar raised an eyebrow, looking skeptical.  _"Vulgar_ curiosity, in other words.  That's all right.  I've never slept with a human before, either."

            "Must have been a real thrill for you."

            "Now, don't start being polite at this late date," Ktalgar said earnestly.

            Kate pushed herself to the edge of the bed and stood up.  "In that case, I get first crack at the bathroom."

            Somewhat later, as they consumed the breakfast Ktalgar had ordered sent in, an atmosphere of relaxed comradeship prevailed.

            "Would you say that you've completed your sociological research?" Ktalgar asked, passing Kate the salt.  "I know research usually involves repeated experimentation."

            "You wouldn't know a sociological research technique if it came up and bit you on the nose," said Kate, narrowly avoiding dropping butter on the overlarge dressing gown Ktalgar had loaned her.  "And if you're working up, in a rather more subtle and sophisticated fashion than getting me drunk--"

            "On one drink?"

            "Probably drugged as well . . . where was I?"

            Ktalgar, watching with interest as his robe slid down the curve of Kate's shoulder, said, "Either research or biting.  Before you completely lose yourself in that tangle you seem to think is a sentence, let me say that you're quite correct."

            He stood, walked around the table to stand behind Kate's chair, and laid his hands on her shoulders.  "Will you come back tonight?"

            Kate leaned back, resting her head against him.  "I'll most certainly be here _until_ this evening."

            "What?" he said.

            "I'm not on any duty today, so if I don't show up, no one will miss me.  But I will be damned if I'm going to go back to my hotel at high noon still wearing my dress uniform.  Not to mention the little awkwardness of trying to explain where I've been."

            Ktalgar's mouth twitched into a rueful smile.  "I hadn't thought of that."

            "Of course not.  But I have to.  I do hope you weren't planning on having other company today."

            He took her hand and pulled her to her feet.  "I'll see you later, then?  Unless, of course, the novelty value's worn off?"

            In answer, Kate pulled Ktalgar into as passionate an embrace as she could manage, considering that it was still breakfast time.  As Ktalgar was once again wearing his regular duty uniform, complete with knife and gun, Kate's enthusiasm brought her into painful contact with his blaster.  She released him to rub her hip.

            "May I take it your answer is in the affirmative?"  Ktalgar put his hands on her waist.

            "You may," she replied, glaring at the gun.  "But only, you understand, as an alternative to, er, 'terminal boredom'."

            Ktalgar smiled.  "Understood."  He leaned forward and kissed her lightly.  "Get some rest," he advised in solicitous tones as he turned to the door.

            Kate's face lit with an only slightly malicious grin.  "Just remember, Captain, _I_ can sleep all day."

#

            _Wouldn't you know it,_ Kate thought crossly as she wrapped the book.  _Just when I started enjoying myself here, the ship gets ordered out-system._   She sat back and looked appraisingly at the parcel.  On the other hand, it was probably just as well.

            This brief fling with an exotic alien had been fun, particularly since he had a needle-sharp mind and a way with acid-etched comments.  _Among other talents._   Kate's lips curved in a smile.  But it was infinitely better to have a clean cut-off like this than to try for an unembarrassing end to the affair when one or the other of them got bored.

            _Which we would have.  Look how long this stupid conference has gone on already, with no results._   Kate inserted a blank tape into her recorder and flipped the machine on.  After a moment's thought, she said, "Uh--Captain:  I'm afraid my ship will be warping out today.  I really enjoyed--

            "Cancel that last, restart recording from 'today'.

            "If you're really that interested in researching Terran customs, you may enjoy reading the enclosed book.  It should at least keep your mind occupied for a while."

            She tucked the message tape under the package's ribbon, packed the whole thing into an official Star Fleet envelope, and headed off for Ktalgar's hotel.  She'd leave this with the front desk personally.  There was no sense risking losing it in the communications network.

            That Klingon wasn't going to forget her in a hurry.  LITTLE WOMEN should just about drive him crazy.  It was really too bad she'd never find out what he thought of it.

            As a matter of fact, it was a mere three months before she saw Ktalgar again.

#

            "Oh, damn."  Kate stared morosely at the message from the ship.  _Why do they insist on bothering me with this junk?  I'm on vacation._

            And, not being one of those hot-headed and weak-minded members of Star Fleet who regarded the presence of Klingons on the same station as a personal affront, Kate saw no reason for the ship to interrupt a pleasantly solitary breakfast in her hotel room with a stern admonition about restrained and civilized behavior.  It was most unlikely that any trouble would be allowed to arise.  Everyone knew that the corporations controlling these major civilian space stations ruled them with a solid-neutronium fist.  The threat of being barred from the station, combined with the highly-visible and efficient private security forces, resulted in extraordinary and unaccustomed courtesy and quiet.  Disturbances were bad for business.

            "And I could not possibly care less about the arrival of that stupid Klingon ship!" Kate said, prudently switching off the communicator before she did so.  It was the arrival of the message that irritated her, not the contents.  But of course the ship had to be able to reach her, just in case.  Damn it.

            Telling herself not to let it ruin the rest of the morning, all five minutes of it, Kate headed for the shower.

            After showering and donning a casually-draped rose-pink tunic and matching tights, Kate went for a leisurely stroll through one of the main shopping levels.

            Leisurely, but not random.  Kate stood and surveyed the bookstore with a wry grin.  The people in that store must think she was planning to rob the place.  But she _needed_ new books.

            And although there were other bookstores scattered throughout the levels of the space station, Dalden's was the only one that bothered to import bound books as well as tapes.  Expensive, but worth it.  Besides, what else did she have to waste her salary on?

            She was contently browsing through the recycle-section, coming to the reluctant conclusion that they really hadn't gotten in any fresh titles since she'd been in yesterday, when she heard a vaguely familiar voice.

            "Excuse me--"

            Kate turned.  _Well, I'll be damned,_ she thought.  _I sure as hell never expected to see him again._   "Why--Captain Ktalgar?  How nice to see you," she said tentatively.

            "An unexpected pleasure."  Ktalgar's dark face was stiffly polite.  They regarded each other with mutual, and visible, wariness.  There was an uncomfortable silence.

            _I'll bet he doesn't even remember my name,_ Kate thought suddenly.  _How awkward for him._   Her mouth curved in a hastily-repressed smile.

            At the sight of Kate's smile, Ktalgar's attitude lost some of its tension.

            Unable to resist, Kate said, "And _did_ you like LITTLE WOMEN?"

            "That book makes absolutely _no_ sense," Ktalgar said.  "I refuse to believe that even Terrans act like that."

            _Oh my God,_ Kate thought, _do you suppose he thinks it's a current novel?_   She choked, and bit down on her lower lip.  Controlling herself with an effort, she said, voice a trifle unsteady, "Would you like a copy of the sequel?"

            "If it's all the same to you, _no,"_ Ktalgar said.  "I have enough problems as it is."

            "I suppose the Klingon ship we were warned about is yours.  Business or shore leave?"

            "Leave.  I usually find myself in Dalden's almost immediately.  Amazing how books can bring people together."

            "At least I didn't drop one on your head this time," said Kate.

            "At least I didn't almost shoot you this time.  I was passing this aisle, and caught a glimpse of you.  I thought your back looked familiar--"

            "So you said to yourself, 'I know here'."  Kate smiled evilly, tilting her head.  "'Let's see, is it Meg, Jo, Beth, Amy--?'"

            "Now, Kate.  I always make a note.  Besides, it's so much easier to remember the exotic aliens."

            To Kate, accustomed to considering herself of average, not to say dull, appearance, this was an idea of charming novelty.  "Thank you."  She replaced the book she held on its rack.  "Well. . . ."  There didn't seem to be anything else to say.  She had the distinctly nasty feeling that she and the Klingon were trapped, wondering how to extricate themselves gracefully.

            _If you're so damned suave, you think of an unembarrassing end to this little scene, Captain,_ Kate thought, almost resentfully, as she looked at Ktalgar.  She was strongly considering the merits of simply saying, 'Well, goodbye,' and walking off.

            Ktalgar, sounding surprisingly diffident, said, "Perhaps, if you have no other plans, you might care to join me for lunch?  Or a drink?"

            Kate stared at him, trying vainly to decide whether this was a real or a polite invitation.  "I--oh, hell.  Look, Ktalgar, are you just being polite?  If you are, say so, or we'll spend the next couple of hours wishing we could get out of each other's hair."

            Ktalgar returned her measuring stare, then grinned.  "Polite?  I'm not polite, either, Kate."

            "Bored again, then?" Kate said.

            "Not at the moment."  He put out his hand to brush a strand of hair from her cheek.  Kate stiffened.  He dropped his hand.  "Novelty value worn off?"

            "I don't know," said Kate.

            "I see."  There was withdrawal in his tone.

            "Anyway, I just had breakfast."

            They stood looking at each other.  The increasingly-remote look on Ktalgar's face was replaced by the sardonic amusement Kate remembered from their previous encounter several months ago.  "At this hour?" he said.

            Kate's self-conscious stiffness vanished.  "Damn right.  I hate, loathe, and despise getting up early."

            "I remember.  Kate--do come and have a drink."

            "I'd love to," Kate said, flinging any remaining reservations to the winds.  "After all, why not?"

            Ktalgar smiled.  "Why not indeed?  And I happen to know a charming--"

            "And secluded?"  Kate was beginning to enjoy herself.

            "But of course."

            "That figures."  She was well aware of the other invitation implicit in Ktalgar's offer of a drink.  She suspected she'd just tacitly accepted it.  But she'd liked him, Klingon or no.  And as they had both just said, why not?

#

            "I must say, this has been one hell of a shore leave."  Kate sat on the edge of the bed, pulling on her uniform boots.  "The wrong companions can make any vacation so much more enjoyable."

            "Don't you mean the _right_ companions?"  Ktalgar ran his nails down her spine to her belt.  "Are you going to put on any more clothes--don't bother on my account, of course--or is that the new Star Fleet uniform of the, er, day?"

            Kate, wearing only the red slacks and black boots of her uniform, twisted to face the grinning Klingon lounging beside her on the bed.  "Don't give them any ideas.  We _just_ got rid of those ridiculous skirts and stockings.  How about handing me that hairbrush?"

            Ktalgar obligingly tossed the brush to her.  "Too bad you have to leave so soon."

            "Ships that pass in the night."  Kate began vigorously trying to browbeat her wavy hair into submission.  "Well, it's been a nice--"

            "Break in the monotony?"

            Kate stopped brushing and looked down at Ktalgar.  "Damned telepath!" she said, flipping the brush at him.

            "Wrong species, I thank the gods," he said lightly.  "But how exciting can--what's your ship supposedly doing, starcharting?--be?"

            "And that's _all_ we'll be doing for God and Fleet Command only knows how long.  I think the captain wound up in hot water, and is being given kindergarten refresher work for a while."

            Ktalgar shrugged.  "At least you're stationed in a sector well-supplied with pleasant leave-points.  How'd you like to be patrolling along the Neutral Zone?"

            "Not much."  Kate got up and went over to collect her bra from the chair.  "I'll gladly concede that 'honor' to the glory hunters."  She slipped into the bra and began to fasten it.

            Ktalgar leaned back on the pillows, watching her closely.  "Nice sector, all things considered.  The _Felcmir_ will probably be patrolling the border here for quite some time."

            "That's nice," said Kate absently.  Then her fingers closed over the bra fastening.  She looked over at Ktalgar.

            "It's just possible," he said.  "I'm interested.  Are you?"

            "A ready-made companion?" she suggested.  "So to speak, that is?"

            "Only with a certain amount of luck, my sweet viper. . . .  Well?"

            Kate, frowning, shoved her arms into her shirt and ran her hand down the front-seam closing.  "Well . . . let me put it this way.  _If_ we wind up in the same place at the same time--"

            Ktalgar swung himself off the bed and walked over to her.  "Yes?"

            Kate looked up at him.  "You can always try buying me a drink.  That seems to work every time."

            Ktalgar laughed, caught her head in his hands, and kissed her.  Kate swayed toward him, then pulled away.

            "And now, would you please get out of here so I can finish packing and check out?" she said.

            Ktalgar pulled his ands away, sliding his fingers along her cheeks.  "Goodbye, Kate.  And if we ever happen to be in the same place, at the same time, with the same inclinations . . . "

            Kate smiled.  "It would be damned nice.  But I wouldn't count on it.  Goodbye, Ktalgar."

            She stood looking at the door after he left, and then shook her head with a rueful smile.  The odds against ever seeing him again were now so high as to make it an impossible occurrence.  All the luck had been used up on this second unexpected interlude.

            _But it's nice to be asked, just the same.  Even if it didn't cost him anything to say  it._   Still smiling, Kate turned to the mirror and began twisting up her hair.

#

            "As long as we're being absolutely frank, I never believed that bit about seeing you again," said Kate several months later.  _"Once_ was the most incredible coincidence--but twice?  The odds against it were just about impossible."

            "So they were."  Ktalgar ran an appreciative hand along the curve of her hip.  "I cheated.  The privilege of rank, you know."

            And nothing easier than for a captain to alter a station-stopover by a few days one way or the other.  Or to keep track of the transmissions and itinerary of a Federation ship for non-military reasons.  If he cared to.

            "How incredibly flattering," Kate said, inordinately pleased.  "Diverting a starship's the biggest thing anyone's ever done for me."

            "Is it indeed?"  Ktalgar's hand paused.  "Well, so long as _you_ divert the ship's captain. . . ."

#

            ". . .'By-the-bye, what became of the baby?' said the Cat.  'I'd nearly forgotten to ask.'

            'It turned into a pig,' Alice answered very quietly, just as if--"

            "Where do you _find_ these books?" Ktalgar said.  "I think you're writing them yourself, just to drive me insane."

            "Well, I like that," Kate said, twisting around in his arms to fix an accusing gaze on him.  "Didn't I spend yesterday afternoon listening to that incomprehensible pre-imperial Klingon epic you dug up?"

            "If you can call it listening to make hypercritical remarks about every minor plot flaw--"

            Kate settled back on his shoulder again and turned back to the book.  _Alice_ is a classic," she said with a superior air.

            "A classic what?"

            Kate promptly dug her elbow into his ribs.

            "When will you learn that you can't win?" Ktalgar said after a brief but interesting struggle.  "You're the worst fighter I ever saw.  I can't imagine how you pass your competency exams for Star Fleet."

            "I'm not in Combat or Security, and stop sounding so damn smug.  Now cut that out."

            Ktalgar laughed, and lifted his hand from Kate's back.  "You started it."

            Kate pushed herself back to a sitting position.  She picked up her book.  "Do shut up, or you won't hear about the Mad Tea Party."  She began trying to find her page.

            "I'll try to survive the disappointment," Ktalgar said.

            "That's all right.  I'll _loan_ it to you."

            "Too generous," he said.  He twitched the book out of her hand.  "Come back over here, will you?  You're out of reach."

            Kate moved back to sit in the curve of his arm.  She rested her arms on her knees, staring with half-closed eyes at the placid view spread out before their favorite spot on the grassy hillside.  The silence lengthened.  She let her eyes close, savoring the air and the sun, Ktalgar's arm a familiar comfort across her shoulders.

            "I love planetfalls," he said idly.  "Sometimes I wonder how I stand spending my life inside metal and wire."

            Kate, voice drowsy, said, "You adore it, or you wouldn't do it.  To make you quite, they'd have to drag you out of your ship with pliers.  Like a crab.  Cheer up, you'll be back to it--"  She broke off, fully awake again.

            "Tomorrow," he said.

            "Damn."  What had happened to that long vacation?  The last day, and the golden stretch of shared time had vanished.  Kate put her hand to her shoulder to curl her fingers around Ktalgar's.

            "I'm going to miss you, Klingon."  She tried to keep her tone light.

            Ktalgar lifted his other hand to Kate's cheek.  "You don't have to.  Come with me."

            "What?" said Kate, turning her head to stare at him in blank surprise.

            Ktalgar put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her around to face him.  He smiled.  "Marry me, Kate."

            "Are you out of your mind?" she said, staring at him.

            Ktalgar's eyes narrowed.  His fingers tightened.  "That's a flattering response," he said with cold irritation.

            "You're not joking."

            "I am not.  I've been thinking about this.  Why should we go from leave to leave, with the odds against meeting increasing each time?  I want you to come with me.  Well, my love?"

            Kate had a warming, treacherous urge to nod her head and throw herself into his arms.  It would be so easy….  _And later?_   She looked at him intently.  "Ktalgar, you _didn't_ think.  The nasty problems involved?"

            "I don't consider them insurmountable."

            "Leaving aside the fact that I don't want to live in the Klingon Empire and that the way things are going, I'd never be able to come home, even to visit my family--"  Kate could hear her voice rising, and stopped.  She pulled away from his grasp, catching his hands, holding them hard.

            "Dear God, Ktalgar, do you know what your High Command would have to say?"

            "I don't care about their comments."

            "You'd care fast enough when they took your ship away," Kate said grimly.

            His hands turned hard and cold in hers.  Kate bent her head, throat tight.

            "Others have married aliens and kept their careers intact," he finally said.

            "Not a battleship captain who brought home an enemy alien," said Kate.  "Even I can see that.  And when they start investigating, and they will--"  She raised her head, meeting his eyes squarely.  "You're forgetting, my darling.  This affair isn't a _real_ secret."

            He nodded, reluctance evident.  "No.  Only for so long as no one wonders, and then looks."

            "It would be about ten seconds before your superiors found out all about our constant coincidental meetings.  And then--"

            Ktalgar interrupted.  "Adjusting arrival and leave times is not a crime."

            Kate just looked at him.  "And then they'd _crucify_ you.  You'd never be let near a ship again.  Your brilliant career would be in such shreds--"  She dropped her head to their hands.

            "For the gods' sake, Kate, don't cry," he said, his voice suddenly sounding tired.

            "And there we'd both be," Kate went on, her voice muffled.  "Trapped."

            "Kate--"

            She lifted her head.  "It's impossible.  Why did you have to bring it up at all?"  She jerked her hands away and pressed them over her eyes for a moment.  "Damn you, anyway."

            Ktalgar sighed, and rose to his feet.  "All right, Kate.  I don’t think it impossible, but I can't deny the difficulties."  He held out his hand.

            After a moment, Kate took it, letting him pull her up.

            He caught her head gently between his hands, bending to kiss her damp eyes.  "But the offer still stands.  Think about it."  His voice turned bitter.  "You'll have plenty of time.  We can't expect to see each other again for quite some time.  The _Felcmir's_ next stop will be home for an overhaul."

            "Reassignment?" said Kate, her hands clenching.

            Ktalgar shook his head.  "It's not going to be that easy for you, Kate.  I damn well intend to see you again.  _Felcmir_ will be given different paths to prowl eventually.  But not yet."

            "It was not kind of you," Kate said, feeling infinitely weary, "to put the idea into my head."  Not to have to wait weeks or months for the glowing shared hours….  "It wasn't very kind, when you know I can't."  Her shoulders sagged.  She turned her head away.

            Ktalgar put his hand under her chin, forcing her to look up at him.  "But I'm not kind, Kate."  His voice was very quiet.  "Whatever made you think I was?"

#

            It was a long time before she saw him again.  And it seemed longer.

            Her initial relief at not having to face Ktalgar on her next shore leave quickly vanished, overwhelmed by the irrational and lonely feeling that, somehow, she had no one to talk to.  Just as if there weren't any number of solid Federationers around, several of whom would have been quite pleased to have provided her with company.

            By the time, several months later, that her ship's circuit of the sector brought it  
arcing back to the principal commercial station, Kate had half-convinced herself that she wouldn't see Ktalgar this time either.  This cold comfort lasted only until she ever-so-casually asked about the current docking list.

            Looking at the list on her viewscreen, Kate had a craven desire to skip leave altogether.  Not that the MedPsych Department would let her get away with that.  They practically kicked everyone off-ship at every conceivable opportunity.

            Kate switched off the viewer.  After staring at it for a moment, biting her lip, she slowly got up and began to change into her civilian clothes.  She dressed with somewhat unusual care.  Then she glanced around, threw a few remaining odds and ends into her suitcase, and headed for the exit dock.

            As usual on her longer leaves, she planned to stay in a hotel, rather than commuting to the ship.  After checking in, she went off to wander around the main malls of the station, absently peering into store windows.

            When her feet began to protest, Kate walked back to the central mall and sat down under some decoratively flowering trees to watch the fountains.  She pulled off her sandals and rubbed her foot.  _I knew it, damn it, a blister.  I should have just gone to the message--_

            "Hello, Kate."

            Kate straightened, pulse leaping.  "Hello, Ktalgar."

            He sat down beside her, face sober, eyeing her with cautious questioning.  Kate began twining the sandal ribbons around her hands, her eyes on Ktalgar's face.

            _Damn it, why don't you say something?_ Kate thought angrily after a moment that seemed endless.  If he didn't, she'd have to; they couldn't just sit here all day like total strangers--  Her nervously fidgeting fingers suddenly stuck.  She looked at her hands.  She'd managed to completely imprison her fingers in the ribbon-straps of her sandals.  "Oh, for--"

            Ktalgar's amusement was plain in his voice.  "Allow me."

            Kate shot a glance at him, and her wary anxiety dissolved.  She let him unwrap the tangle of straps.  "God damn it, I was wandering around here looking positively elegant for hours.  Why don't you ever show up when I have all my clothes on properly?"

            "It's so much more rewarding when they're off--improperly," Ktalgar said, with an answering grin.

            Kate began to laugh.  "Ktalgar, I _am_ glad to see you.  Although the way my subconscious sets me up for your snide remarks--"

            "Klingons never make snide remarks," he said gravely.

            "Is that like the 'Vulcans never tell jokes' routine?" said Kate suspiciously, bending down to put on her sandals.  "And if all you have planned for today is sitting around making nasty remarks…."

            Ktalgar held out his hands.  Kate placed hers on his, and he drew her to her feet.  "Come."  He smiled.  "There must be some more secluded areas on this station."

            "And if there aren't, you can always lodge a complaint, I suppose."

            Ktalgar raised his eyebrows slightly.  "Of course."

            _And he would, too._   Kate choked.  At his questioning glance, she said, "'Dear Sirs: It has come to my attention that your otherwise well-appointed station is inadequately supplied with areas suitable for amorous dalliance.  Please see that this situation is corrected immediately--"

            "Stop giggling," Ktalgar said in severe tones.

            Kate stopped snickering, grinned at him, and glanced around.  She encountered a hostile stare from a human walking by.  The combination of human female and Klingon male in sociable conversation was drawing other unfriendly looks.

            "Let's get out of here," she said abruptly.

            Ktalgar looked at the passersby and then at Kate.  "An excellent idea.  What time is it for you?"

            "Almost evening."

            "How fortunate.  I happen to know an interesting restaurant on the next level."

            "Private and discreet, of course?"

            "Certainly," he said, mild surprise on his face.

            "Sometimes I think you must practice those expressions of yours in front of a mirror….  Were you ever on leave in a place that _didn't_ have a 'private and discreet' little place that you just happen to know?"

            "Once," Ktalgar said reflectively.  "But that station _did_ generally cater to methane-breathers."

            They walked through broad shopping corridors to the lower level, picturesquely winding lower halls.  The restaurant, when they finally reached it, was so complacently successful that Kate would have passed it without noticing the modest entrance.

            Once past the front door, decorous restraint was abandoned.  A waiter escorted them through intricately paneled halls and ushered them into a small private dining room.  There was a soft click from the lock as he left.

            "Good Lord," Kate said in stunned but admiring tones.  "How--how decadent!"

            The room was furnished with a large couch composed of oversized pillows.  The couch was covered with darkly velvety material.  Deep red tones predominated.  The thick matching carpet was almost up to Kate's ankles.  Almost as an afterthought, a small gilded table and two matching chairs stood in a corner.

            "How in God's name do you _find_ these places?" Kate said.

            Ktalgar grinned.  "I admit it's not very subtle, but the food is good."

            "Food, huh?"  Kate regarded him with extreme skepticism.  "Talk about _vulgar--"_

            "So we were," said Ktalgar, reaching for her.

            "Very true," said Kate with an air of surprise.  "So we were."  She wrapped her arms around him, kissing him with a fierceness that rather surprised her.

            Ktalgar pulled her closer.  Kate relaxed against him, ran her lips along his neck, and breathed softly into his ear, her tone low and seductive, "Get rid of the damned gun before I stuff it down your throat.  Sideways," she added.  "Don't you ever remember to take the thing off?"

            Ktalgar grinned again, unfastened his gunbelt, and tossed it over to the couch.

            "It's not funny."  Kate rubbed her hip.  "I might just as well have the outline of that blaster tattooed on."

            Ktalgar sat next to the gun.  "You don't feel that would be a trifle more difficult to explain than a bruise?"  He pulled Kate down beside him.

            She directed a pointed look at the blaster.  Ktalgar obligingly pushed it out of sight under the nearest cushion.

            "Thanks," she said.  "I always feel it interferes with the mood of unrestrained passion."

            His grin faded.  He ran a finger, with great and delicate care, down the curve of her throat.  Kate caught her breath and, with equal care, placed her hands on his shoulders, tightening her fingers on his shirt.  She let herself fall back on the cushions, pulling him down into a close embrace.

            There was a diffident buzz from the door intercom.

            Ktalgar pulled his mouth from Kate's.  _"Arkvash!"_ he said savagely.  "Has that waiter _no_ sense of timing?"

            "Don't answer it," Kate said, looking up at him through half-closed eyes.  "He'll come back later."

            "Now I know why I love you."  Ktalgar kissed her eyebrow.  "It's for your brilliantly logical mind."

            Kate laced her fingers behind his head.  "Shut up, darling," she said, and pulled his mouth back to hers.

#

            A great deal later, after they had finally gotten around to eating dinner, Kate sat leaning her head on her hand, absently swirling the contents of her wineglass.

            "The idea, I believe, is to drink it," Ktalgar informed her kindly.

            Kate looked up and smiled at him.  Her smile gradually faded.  "Ktalgar?  What is it?"

            "I've missed you.  Very badly."

            Kate sighed.  "And God, did I miss you.  I never intended to, you know, damn it."

            "I know.  Kate--do you feel you could change your mind on the subject of marriage?"

            There was a dead silence.  Kate's fingers tightened on the stem of the wineglass.  "That isn't fair."

            Ktalgar reached across and took the glass from her hand.  He set it down, jolting wine onto the table.  "It wasn't supposed to be.  Why not, Kate?"

            She shook her head slowly.

            "We'd--"

            "Be miserable, and you know it.  You know I'm right.  You're just too stubborn to admit it."

            "As stubborn as you?  We could try."

            "And your career?  You seem to think you're willing to throw over everything you've worked for.  To have _me?"_   Kate was suddenly shaky.  "How long before you started looking at me and thinking, 'If it weren't for her, I'd still have my ship….'  And then you'd hate me."

            He stared at her, mouth tight.

            Kate went on.  "'Try', you say.  Ktalgar, we _can't_ just 'try'.  They're already talking about cutting diplomatic ties, after that last asinine incident.  If they do, they'll freeze the borders.  It's a one-way trip.  No backing out."

            "Oh, Kate," he said, his face softening.  He held out a hand.  "Does it frighten you that badly?  You'd think I were asking you to live among primitive cannibals."

            Kate laid her hand in his.  "I'm sorry.  I can't."

            "Won't," he corrected.

            Kate pulled her hand back.  "All right, Ktalgar my love.  _You_ come and we'll live in the Federation."

            "What an amusing idea.  Can't you ever be serious?"

            "You see?"  There was hot pressure behind Kate's eyes.  "I don't want to spend my life as a stranger among a bunch of aliens!  And neither do you!"

            Ktalgar stared at her, his face drained of its customary urbane amusement.  He looked cold and savage, and Kate drew back in her chair.

            After a long moment, he relaxed.  Kate didn't think his smile was quite convincing, but it was infinitely better than his previous expression.

            "No.  You're quite right."  The tone of his voice was mild, and Kate did not like it at all.  "You are quite right, and it would be a great deal more pleasant if you weren't."

            "Cheer up, darling."  Kate made a valiant effort to defuse the tension in the room.  "Wed, no.  Bed, however, is something else again."  This time she was the one who held her hand out, palm up, across the table.

            His eyes on her face, he placed his hand over hers, closing his fingers to grip her wrist.  The tension subtly altered and intensified.

            His hold on her wrist tightened as they stared at each other across the table.  He began to rise, slowly, pulling Kate with him.  With equal slowness, she closed her own fingers around his wrist.

            There was a sharp, clipped beeping from Ktalgar's communicator.

            "Oh, shit!" Kate said on an almost sobbing breath.  Ktalgar reached for his communicator, keeping his hand on her wrist.  She shut her mouth firmly, waiting as Ktalgar carried on an acerbic conversation with his ship.

            When he snapped the communicator shut a few moments later, he looked exceedingly annoyed.

            "What was that all about?" Kate asked.

            "Some idiot forgot to fill out three lines of a report in triplicate that was submitted to our local consul."  He released her wrist and went to collect his gun, strapping the gunbelt around his waist.  "I, of course, have to straighten out the resultant mess."  He drew a deep breath.  "Bureaucrats!"

            From the tone in which he said it, Kate couldn't feel that whoever had loused up was in for a particularly pleasant evening.  She also couldn't feel much sympathy for the unknown.  Why they couldn't have waited until morning….

            "Call me when you finish," Kate said.

            "I will.  It may be late."

            "I don't care."  Kate laid her hand on his chest.  "A whole week--I don't want to waste it."

            "Only a week."  He bent and kissed her.  "I'll see you later."

#

            With that initial exception, it was a week of uninterrupted enjoyment.  Kate rather suspected that after the first time, Ktalgar's crew would much prefer _not_ to call their captain to handle any little problem that might crop up.

            Kate and Ktalgar spent a happily companionable time, in and out of bed.  But after the first morning spent combing the bookstores with Ktalgar, Kate decided to wear a veil when she was in public with the Klingon.

            "Why?"  Ktalgar watched with puzzled interest as Kate anchored combs in her hair and hooked on the veil.  "On a station like this, you have to make a concerted effort to _attract_ attention, not avoid it."

            Kate tilted her head, examining the effect in the mirror.  "I know--but I don't like the looks we've been getting this time."  All they'd need would be for some hotheaded human to take exception to a Klingon and a Terran woman fraternizing, and they'd be sunk.

            She turned, her grin hidden by the veil.  "What's the matter?  Don't you like it?"

            "It's a little disconcerting.  But I see your point.  You could be any species under that."

            "Now you can just tell everyone I'm a terribly modest woman from one of your planets--"

            "Not modest.  Conventional.  Come on, unless you want to be dramatically late for the play…."

#

            "You never think about anything but sex," said Kate severely.  She propped herself up on one elbow and looked at Ktalgar lying beside her.

            "And my ship.  I do think about my starship."

            "Occasionally."

            Ktalgar grinned.  Kate slid her hand down his bare chest in a leisurely fashion.

            Ktalgar caught her hand and lightly ran his thumb over her palm.  “Sometimes I think you really enjoy this affair because you know your Star Fleet would have a spasm if it found out.  Why you’re in the military at all, considering your low opinion of it, is beyond me.”

            “How else could I afford to travel?  And the tuition benefits?”

            Ktalgar looked at her, raising his eyebrows.  “That’s not--”

             “Besides, I’m sure part of the pleasure for both of us is the lure of forbidden fruit.”  Kate’s mouth curved in a slow grin.  “After all, look at _your_ position—figuratively speaking, of course,” she added hastily.  “The Empire must be full of nice Klingon girls.  And you know _your_ superiors wouldn’t take a much brighter view than mine.”  Kate flopped back on the pillows, pulling free and clasping her hands behind her head.  “Of course, _I_ at least have a legitimate excuse for fraternizing--”

            “Is that the current technical term for this activity?”

            “—with the enemy.”

            “Mental deficiency, I suppose?”

            “I’m conducting primary research into the effects of role models in military leadership selection processes.”

            Ktalgar regarded her skeptically.  “Oh?”

            “Consider the typical starship captain,” Kate said.  “Suave.  Debonair.  Dashing.  Sex on wheels.  A type that transcends species differentials.  Question:  Is it due to a process of deliberate selection for type on the part of the authorities, or do individuals possessing the operative qualities gravitate to the role because they’re naturally flamboyant?  This behavior is undoubtedly reinforced by the image the existing role-models project.  In short, do people become starship captains because they’re the type who’s attracted by the image, or are they attracted by the image because they’re the type?”

            “Now wait a minute--”  Ktalgar shook his head slightly.  “Never mind.  And what conclusion have you drawn?  Based on your extensive personal research.”

            Kate looked at him with innocent surprise.  “Oh, that’s as much conclusion as anyone will ever arrive at.  It’s already nine times as definitive as most sociological conclusions.  Of course, in its final form it will be a 500-page  monograph.  With charts.”

            Ktalgar pulled Kate over to him.  “I think you’d better stick to the insanity story.”  He trailed his fingers across her face and down the curve of her throat.

            Kate closed her eyes, relaxed her body against Ktalgar, and let her own fingers wander to his ribs.  Ktalgar promptly abandoned his attentions to grab her hand, pinning it hard against the mattress.

            “You,” he observed sharply, “are a fiend.”

            “And you have a nasty, suspicious mind.  You know perfectly well I wouldn’t tickle you.  It’s too dangerous.”

            Ktalgar released her hand.

            “Paranoid,” she added.

            “Sensible precaution.  Humans are inherently untrustworthy.”

            “Thanks a lot.”  Kate lay resting in his arms for a moment, then sighed, pushing herself away.  “I hate to say it, love, but I’d better get moving.”  She swung herself reluctantly off the bed and began collecting her stray items of clothing.

            Ktalgar watched with amusement as she dressed.  “If you’d put all your clothes in one place, you wouldn’t have so much trouble finding them.”

            “Hmmph.”  Kate sat next to him on the edge of the bed to pull on her boots.

            “See you next time we both happen to put in at the same station.”

            Kate twisted to look at him, surprised by his bitter tone.  At the sight of his face, she stood.  “Don’t.”

            Ktalgar’s hand shot out as she stepped back.  He jerked her back down beside him.

            “Please,” Kate said.

            “How long this time?” Ktalgar said.  “I’m tired of having you only when our ships cross paths.  And it’s getting ever-harder to arrange.  A month?  Six?  Never?”

            “Ktalgar--”  Kate tried to pull away.

            His grip held her down.  “Stay,” he said, voice cold.  “I haven’t finished.”

            “I thought we finished this discussion long ago,” Kate snapped.  So he hadn’t given up after all.  “Why can’t you stop this ‘be reasonable, do it my way’ routine?”  She looked at the hand tightening on her arm.  “I would like to retain the use of my left hand,” she added.  “Let me go.”

            There was a brief, tense pause before Ktalgar’s grip slackened.  With a distinct feeling of relief, Kate rose and backed off.

            He looked at her for a moment.  Then, smiling grimly, he reached for his uniform and began to yank on his clothes.  It took him an amazingly short time to dress.  He walked over to Kate, fastening his gunbelt.

            “Haven’t you forgotten something?” she asked.

            Ktalgar’s expression was wary.  “What?”

            “That obligatory casually tousled hair.”  Kate took a hasty step sideways toward the door.  Ktalgar moved faster.  She found herself pinned against the wall, his hands on either side of her body.

            “What a nasty tongue you have,” he said in the mild tone that usually indicated intense irritation.  “Stop trying to change the subject and introduce your obligatory note of levity.”

            “I’m sorry,” said Kate.  She felt rather desperate.  “Ktalgar, I have to go.  I’ll be late.  I’ve left it to the last minute as it is.  If anyone notices….”

            Ktalgar regarded her thoughtfully as her voice trailed off.  “Very true.”  He dropped his hands and stepped back a pace.  “Goodbye.”

            _Just once,_ thought Kate with sudden longing, _I’d like to be able to say a less final farewell.  No assurance, no guarantee._   “Goodbye,” she said.  “Oh, hell.”

            They looked at each other for a minute, and then she stepped forward, hugging him tightly.  After a moment, she felt his arms around her.  He held her for a few seconds, then bent his head to press his mouth hard on hers.

            Kate finally pulled away.  “I didn’t really mean it about the hair.”

            Ktalgar touched her cheek.  She thought he was going to say something else, but he turned away and left the room without another word.  The sliding door gave the distinct impression of being slammed.

            Kate let out her breath in a shuddering sigh and sagged back against the wall.  This had originally been a lighthearted, casual affair.  How the hell had it turned into this heart-wrenching mess?

#

            It was a question Kate asked herself with increasing frequency during the next few weeks.  As the political situation between the Federation and Empire slowly worsened, and the date by which she would have to decide whether or not to re-enlist grew closer, she spent too many nights staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep.

            _And even if I were crazy enough to re-enlist--_   Kate sat upright in the dark, hugging her knees.  The very thought was enough to bring an instinctive ‘No’ to her lips.  _Even if I could stand to, and I’m awfully tired of Star Fleet life, there’s still no guarantee that I’d ever see Ktalgar._   His ship would be transferred.  Or hers.  Or, with re-enlistment, she might very likely be assigned to another ship entirely….

            No, she had no intention of staying in Star Fleet.  She’d go home.  _And never see him again?  I can’t stand that, either._

            “Be sensible, Kate,” she said.  “A man you really know nothing about?  A man you’ve seen half-a-dozen times in almost two years?”

            She twisted around, flinging herself down and burying her face in the pillow.  _I won’t, I can’t,_ she thought frantically.  _Wrong, no matter which way I choose.  Damn you, Ktalgar.  Why did you have to do this?  You should have let it go, the way I did…._

            When the query about re-enlistment came, Kate said no.

            It was a relief to have the decision made.  She hoped, or thought she did, that she’d be lucky enough to see Ktalgar one last time before she went home.

#

            She was lucky.  And fortunately Ktalgar seemed to have abandoned his frightening intensity of emotion, keeping their relationship on its earlier, lighthearted footing.  It was Kate who found herself trying to cope with an impossible desire to possess and hold.

            But she knew it was really the last time.  He didn’t.  And Kate couldn’t bear to tell him.

#

            _You can’t leave it any longer._   Kate lifted her head and looked at Ktalgar.  _Tomorrow’s the last day.  You can’t just say ‘Goodbye forever, my love’ as you walk out.  You have to tell him._   She took a deep breath.

            “Ktalgar….”  Her voice trailed off.

            He smiled and walked over to curve his arm around her.  “Yes?”

            Kate looked at his face.  Then she buried her head on his chest, gripping his arms tightly.  “Oh, God.”  Her words were muffled in his shirt.  “Why did I ever let it get this far?”

            He ran his hand over her dark hair.  “Kate, what is it?”  Then he put his hands on her shoulders, pushing her back to look at her.  “This far?”  His voice was full of questioning hope.  “Kate—you aren’t pregnant?”

            “Am I--”  Kate stared at the dawning eagerness on his face.  “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” she said slowly.  “You think that would force me to--”  With a surge of anger, she twisted out of his hands.  “Well, I’m not.  I’m not quite _that_ stupid.  You know perfectly well that at least 75% of all accidental pregnancies are inter-species.  I don’t care if you’d like it—I’m not leaving something like that to chance.”

            Ktalgar’s arms dropped to his sides.  “Yes, I would like it.  Not only would I like your children, but Kate—I’m tired of going on like this.”

            Kate clenched her hands, nails digging into her palms.  “Ktalgar--”  She hesitated, eyes on his bronzed, intent face.  “Ktalgar, there’s just no easy way to say this.”

            His brows drew together.  “To say what?”  He took a step toward her.

            “My term of service is almost up.  I’m going home.  I’ll be getting my degree next year, and I’ve been offered an instructorship at--”

            “What?”  His voice was almost inaudible.

            Kate spun around to gaze, unseeing, at the wall.  “I’m saying goodbye, Ktalgar.  I shouldn’t have put off telling you.  But I couldn’t stand to ruin the last time.”

            Ktalgar jerked her around, his fingers clamped on her arm like a trap.  He stared at her, his face blank, for a stretched moment of silence.

            Kate turned her head away from the pain in his expression.  Her throat hurt.  _I will not cry._

            “No.”  He slid his hand over her cheek and forced her to face him.  “Kate, come with me.”

            Kate put her hand on his wrist.  “Ktalgar, I can’t!”

            _“Why,_ Kate?”

            “Ktalgar, I won’t spend the rest of my life as an enemy alien, living with--”  Kate shut her mouth suddenly.

            “Living with me?”  He moved his thumb over the curve of her lips.  “I think you could manage.  I love you, Kate.”

            “And I love you.  But Ktalgar, love isn’t enough.”  She looked at the tautness of his unconvinced face and added, desperately, “Your ship?  Your command?”

            His mouth thinned.  “Kate,” he began slowly, “I’ll simply be booted upstairs to a desk command.  A promotion, really.”

            “The dashing captain without his glamorous starship?”  Kate gave Ktalgar a brittle smile.  “How long before you hated me for chaining you to that desk?”

            “No,” he said.  “My choice.”  He tried to pull her close.

            She stiffened, resisting the comfort of his embrace.  “But not mine.”

            He let her pull away, his face darkening.  “As you love me, Kate, _why?_   What do you have to give up that--”

            “Oh, nothing that could possibly match your sacrifice,” Kate said.  “I’d only have to defect, throw over _my_ career, _my_ family, _my_ friends, _my_ people, to go live with a bunch of Klingons.”

            Ktalgar’s voice was soft.  “I’m a Klingon.”

            “But I know you.”  Kate’s voice took on a note of trapped panic.  “I don’t even speak the language.  And you know what’s happening with the political situation as well as I do.  I could never come back.”

            “You mean you couldn’t walk out.”

            Kate crossed her arms and said tensely, “I’d be trapped there, Ktalgar.  If it didn’t work out, you’d be able to walk off.  I will not wrap on chains and throw away the key with my own hands.  Not even for you.”

            Ktalgar’s face had been freezing into lines of cold anger as she spoke.  “You prefer to throw away our happiness with your own hands, rather than take that risk.”  His voice was distant.

            Kate looked at him, and then turned to the closet.  "I _should_ have waited until the very last second to tell you," she said bitterly.  "I can see being fair was a mistake.  I might as well leave now."

            Ktalgar took a long stride forward and swept her backwards with his outstretched arm.  Kate landed on the bed, staring up at him, shocked.

            "Perhaps I should remove the choice from your hands."

            Kate half-lay on the bed, still staring in cold disbelief.  "Keep me here?  You're crazy, Ktalgar."

            "I think not."

            "What are you going to do?  Knock me out?  That would be just like your charming people.  All you military geniuses understand is brute force."

            Ktalgar smiled unpleasantly.  "It has the advantage of simplicity, which is all an Earther comprehends.  You will stay with me, Kate."

            "No.  I'm going home.  I won't let myself ruin my life for--"

            Ktalgar's hand went to the hilt of his knife, his eyes fixed on Kate.

            The skin chilled on her arms.  "Do you want to start a war?  Ktalgar, I'm not worth a war."

            His fingers fastened on the knife hilt.  "So you say.  Then the Federation doubtless will not concern itself with your loss."

            Kate drew in her breath sharply.  She'd been afraid to tell Ktalgar.  But she had not anticipated unleashing this kind of emotional danger.  Looking at the Klingon, she knew without any doubt that he was quite capable of abducting her.  Or…Kate pushed herself cautiously toward the pillows.

            Ktalgar came slowly toward the bed.  _"You_ have made _your_ decision.  _This_ is _mine._   I say you will not leave."

            Kate slid her hand under the pillow.  Her fingers closed on the cool hilt of Ktalgar's gun.  She whipped it out and pointed it steadily at Ktalgar.

            He halted, staring, not at the gun, but at her face.  "Kate--"

            "Let me go, Ktalgar," she said.  "Let me _go."_

            Ktalgar looked at her.  His hand left the knife, and all the savage tension seemed to drain from him.  He sighed, and walked over to her.

            Kate's hand began to shake, and her vision blurred with hot and painful tears.

            Ktalgar quietly took the gun from her unsteady hand and placed it in his belt beside his knife.  Kate stared at him, frozen, unable even to cry.

            Moving very slowly, Ktalgar took her hands in his.  He looked tired, and older.  He lifted her hands, bending to kiss each palm.  Then he took her head between his hands and kissed her trembling mouth.  He straightened and stepped back.

            Kate bent her head.  When she looked up again, Ktalgar was gone.

            _But I was right._   Kate stared at the door, cold pain in her heart.  She looked down at her hands and closed her fingers protectively over her palms.

            _God damn you to hell, my love, I was right.  Wasn't I?_

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End file.
